


Love Comes to Meet Us

by hansen



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Falling In Love, Meet-Cute, Mutual Pining, Pining, Roommates, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 11:13:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14377455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hansen/pseuds/hansen
Summary: Amy Santiago, a detective at the 82nd precinct, dumps her boyfriend in pursuit of a more passionate and worthwhile romance. All she gets, though, is no place to stay and no more stability in her life. That is, until she meets Jake Peralta.(AU where Amy and Jake become roommates after she moves out of Teddy's apartment.)





	Love Comes to Meet Us

**Author's Note:**

> whaddup yo! this is an au VERY loosely based on a shitty book called chasing red, which is essentially a 50 shades of grey knockoff, but ive heavily changed the plot, dont fret! just gotta give credit where credit is due. get ready for some sweet sweet (and healthy, non-abusive) slowburn my friends. enjoy!

Amy Santiago is a rule-follower. Rules are what keep the world in order. Rules make sense. Rules are easy to follow. Amy has never had a problem with following the rules. Marrying Teddy Wells, her boyfriend of going-on-six-years, was one of her rules.

 

Apparently, when Amy breaks rules, she drinks.

 

Amy slumps against the bar, face buried in her arms. She should’ve known Teddy was too good to be true. He was too safe. He liked _jazz_ , for God’s sake. Teddy was Amy’s prince charming: he was smart and easy and cookie-cutter. Maybe that sounds boring to other people, but in Amy’s world, Teddy was perfect for her. He wouldn’t get in the way of her aspirations or cause her any trouble and she could be blissfully _content_ with his lack of character for the rest of her life.

 

Of course, that’s now how things turned out. When Amy woke up that morning, she hadn’t planned on dumping Teddy. The urge to leave him hit her like a sack of bricks. Sitting there at the kitchen table, reading aloud the obituaries because they weirdly fascinated him, Teddy suddenly felt like the most boring person in the entire world. Amy couldn’t live her life like this. She’s a _cop_. She deserves adventure and passion and fun, doesn’t she?

 

Ugh. Since when did she ever want _that_? Amy rolls her eyes at herself before downing the rest of her drink. At least she isn’t stress smoking. It’s pathetic how low the bar is at this point, she thinks.

 

The bar is busy. It’s a weekend, she realizes, so people are out with their friends, drinking for pleasure and not wanting to drown themselves in their own _skinny margarita_. She blends into the bar, huddled into her own shame corner and observing the nightlife behind her glass.

 

She recognizes a few faces. A few people from the 99th precinct are there, bustling and loud and obnoxious, just like how they behave at the Tactical Village every year. The 99th precinct annoyed everyone at the 82nd, Teddy especially. Talking about them is one of the only things that can get him worked up. She can’t blame him -- they seem _wildly_ unprofessional in a way that makes Amy cringe just from the thought. The only person she can even begin to respect from that precinct is their captain, who seems to be absent from the bar, so she turns her attention back to the forgiving arms of her alcohol.

 

It’s only after the night begins to dwindle does Amy realize she has nowhere to go. She lived in _Teddy’s_ apartment. The thought of staying with her parents for an indefinite amount of time makes Amy want to throw herself off a roof, so that’s out of the question. The fact of the matter is Amy really doesn’t have many friends. All of her friends from the 82nd liked Teddy more than her (understandable, considering she can be a bit _much_ and Teddy is the exact opposite of that). Amy swallows down the rest of her drink, which makes her feel even worse. The pit of nausea in her stomach coils tight around her insides and it takes all of her willpower not to unload right onto the bar.

 

Instead, she stands and sways, clutching the bar for support. On her way out, Amy stops. One of the last people at the bar is another guy from the 99th, which she observes through the woman all over him fiddling with his badge like its a fidget spinner. The officer looks painfully uncomfortable, his back pressed into the bar with an awkward smile on his face.

 

Amy decides she has nothing to lose.

 

“ _Excuse_ me?” she demands, loudly and leeringly slurred. That certainly catches the attention of both the officer and the girl on top of him. The officer looks panicked and Amy can’t help but pity the poor guy. She stumbles over to the pair, knocking into only two chairs on her way, and grabs the back of the girl’s halter top (what is this, 2007?). “Get your _hands_ ,” Amy says as she yanks the girl back, “off my _boyfriend_!”

 

The girl blinks, wide-eyed and too clearly drunk to process her actions. She starts to bubble out some apology, but Amy’s already latched onto the officer, making it very clear that he’s _her_ property.

 

The officer seems to find his voice after a moment of gawking. “Yeah!” he proclaims, over-the-top and outraged. “Get outta here! I am a _married_ man!”

 

Amy grabs the officer’s hand and holds it up, only to find no ring. “What the fuck!” she gasps. Amy finds herself slipping into character, donning an exaggerated Jersey accent. “You took off your ring, you two-timing piece of--”

 

“Baby, it’s not what it looks like--”

 

“You cheated on me _again_ , you scumbag?”

 

“I ain’t the only cheater here, you stupid little--”

 

“She’s gone.”

 

“Huh?”

 

The officer breaks character, looking up to find that the girl had, indeed, decided that the situation was too much for her. Amy looks at him and is met with a big grin. “That was awesome, thank you _so_ much,” he tells her. “Are you from New Jersey? ‘Cause that accent was spot on.”

 

Amy smiles and laughs a little. “I, um-- I--”

 

Oh, boy.

 

Before she can get her sentence out, Amy hurls right onto the officer’s shoes.

 

He jolts back, but he’s not immediately cursing her out and running away, so maybe the situation’s not as bad as she thinks.

 

“Woah, there,” he says instead, his hand finding her back. “Okay, wow, let’s get you outta here, yeah?” With that, the officer guides her outside. His hand is big and warm and a ridiculously comforting presence. She doesn’t overthink it when she leans against him once they make it outside. It’s cold and she’s emotional, she rationalizes. She’s allowed to have this.

 

The officer, whose name she still doesn’t know, finds them a bench to sit on outside of the bar. “You okay?” he asks her in a voice that’s too sweet to be real.

 

“I’m okay,” Amy tells him hoarsely. “Just embarrassed.”

 

The officer laughs. “Don’t worry -- you’re not the first person who’s thrown up on me and pretended to be my girlfriend.”

 

Amy looks up at him with a squint, which only makes him laugh harder. “Quit laughing at me,” she says, with less venom than she’d hoped.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through tapering giggles. After a beat, he speaks again: “Did you come here with anyone?”

 

The wind nips at Amy’s nose and she pulls her coat tighter around her body. “No,” she admits. “I’m alone.”

 

The officer doesn’t comment. “Do you need me to call you a cab home?” he asks instead.

 

Home. Amy doesn’t have a home anymore. She didn’t even have a home when she was living with Teddy. Not really. “I can’t go home,” Amy tells him. “I just broke up with my boyfriend and we were living together and-- and _fuck_ , we’ve been together for, like, _six years_. I can’t just-- Oh, God, I can’t see him right now. And we fucking work together, too. Can you believe that? In the same fucking precinct! I’m such an idiot! I’m so-- I’m so--”

 

Amy shudders and leans over, puking onto the pavement next to her. At least it wasn’t on this nice stranger’s shoes. She feels his hands brush against her neck as he pulls her hair away from her face.

 

“Wow,” says the aforementioned nice stranger after Amy sits up. He drops a bottle of water and a stack of napkins into her lap. She blinks up at him and he shrugs. “Grabbed ‘em before we left.”

 

“Oh, God,” Amy says again. This time, she’s not puking. Instead, she feels tears well up in her eyes. She harshly scrubs at them with the back of her hand, suppressing sobs. “I’m so sorry,” she says through her whimpers. “That’s just-- That’s so nice, oh my God.”

 

The officer shifts. He’s probably uncomfortable. “Um,” he says. “Hey, listen. I don’t know if you’re a murderer but I’m a cop, so like, obviously I’m not--”

 

“I’m a cop,” Amy says softly, her voice raw from crying.

 

The officer perks up. “Okay, cool, cool, cool,” he says, clearly relieved. “Well, uh, I’m Detective Jake Peralta, from the--”

 

“99th precinct, I know. I’ve seen you at the Tactical Villages. I mean, I didn’t know your name, but… You’re a good cop. You beat the course record.”

 

Jake Peralta glows with pride. “Yeah! Well, the 82nd-- Wait. You’re from the 82nd precinct!” Jake realizes brightly. “I thought I recognized you from somewhere. I just thought you might’ve been a D-list actress from a Lifetime movie or something.”

 

“Thanks,” Amy says dryly. “I’m Amy. Detective Amy Santiago.”

 

Jake Peralta looks at her with the biggest, dumbest grin she’s ever seen. “Nice to meet you, detective.”

 

She softens. “It’s nice to meet you, too, detective.”

 

“Now, if I may proceed to make you uncomfortable,” he says. “If you don’t have a place to stay, you’re welcome to crash on my couch. I live nearby and I don’t think you’re gonna murder me in my sleep or eat me alive or something equally as terrifying, so…”

 

Amy laughs softly. She can’t even begin to process how stupid and unsafe this decision is. Sleeping at some random stranger’s apartment is dangerous and something she would never do if she were in her right mind, but Jake is looking at her in earnest and she inexplicably trusts his stupid smile, so she says yes.

 

“Toit!” he says, and for the life of her, Amy can’t even begin to ask what that means. She instead slumps against Jake’s shoulder, which is warm and safe. “C’mon, Santiago. Don’t go falling asleep on me just yet, okay?”

 

Jake helps her up. She grips her water bottle and napkins for dear life as he guides her to his car: an ugly, old clunker that smells like old cheese and is piled with receipts and food containers. “Your car is disgusting,” Amy observes through her sleepy haze as Jake opens the passenger door for her.

 

“I know, I know,” he tells her soothingly. He comes around to the other side and gets in, starting the car. It shudders unhealthily and Amy thinks that if the car breaks down or if they get into a fiery crash and die, she wouldn’t mind too much.

**Author's Note:**

> constructive criticism is always welcome.  
> comments and kudos appreciated! <3
> 
> tumblr: @obc


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